Treading Water
by mrosse38
Summary: Struggling, a closed off and emotionally thwarted Alex Vause begrudgingly finds herself seeking out the support of a blonde haired therapist who turns out to be much more than she expected. What will happen when professional boundaries begin to become crossed? Potential multi-chapter Vauseman Therapist/Patient AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This idea has been floating around in my head for a while now and I thought it might be a good idea to work with and turn into a multi chapter.**

….

A beam of bright light cascades through the half drawn curtains of her bedroom window, causing the brunette to scrunch her nose at the unwelcome intrusion, her body protesting as she begins to rile from her sleep. She stretches her long, pale limbs, her muscles contracting as she buries her face into her pillow, not yet willing to welcome another day.

Alex groans audibly as she stretches her right arm, fingers fumbling for the glasses located on the nightstand, her head throbbing intently under the weight of last night's heavy drinking session, the empty bottles that litter her room evidence of the familiar ending of the night before. The taste of liquor still taints her tongue, a knowing betrayal that she had allowed herself to give in once again to ease the pain that coursed through her body, never failing to make itself known.

Finally locating her glasses, Alex raises her head from the pillow and slips them onto her face before turning onto her back and squinting her eyes as she attempts to blink the world into a clear view. She runs a hand through her long black hair, sighing deeply as she glances towards the clock radio, the digital display causing her to mutter a loud 'fuck' as she throws the covers from her body, the realisation that she was late with her lunch meeting with her friend very much present.

Ignoring the traitorous pounding in her head, Alex searches through her unkempt room in search of fresh clothes, the mess across her apartment paralleling the mess she knew, but failed to acknowledge, her life had become. It was deeply rooted instinct for Alex to ignore her problems, to find solace into alternative measures she knew would allow her to be taken away from the heartache she felt, her typical badass persona allowing everyone but her best friend to be shielded from the truth.

Selecting a pair of discarded black jeans and white V-neck from her floor, Alex quickly changes, all the while ignoring the sinking sensation that always resurfaced as her body and mind began to sober and remember her reality, a reality she hated dearly.

She stomps through her apartment, groaning as she slips on her leather riding jacket and searches for her keys, muttering a quick 'thank you' to herself as she quickly locates them on the trestle of her kitchen. Grabbing her black motorcycle helmet, Alex gives one final glance at the clock telling her how late she truly was, before exiting her apartment and into the hallway beyond.

…..

"You're late," Nicky states firmly as she watches Alex approach, her questioning eyes following her best friend's rigid form as she sinks into the booth opposite her, the brunette's attention quickly turning to the small menu in front of her.

"Sorry, traffic," Alex mumbles as she feels the wild haired woman's gaze remain fixated upon her, silently scrutinising her slightly unkempt appearance with a heavy sigh, signalling what she knew.

Nicky momentarily frowns, the image that was presented in front of her far from the Alex Vause she always knew, the last few months proving to have been too difficult of a strain upon her best friend of over ten years. Alex and Nicky had always been close, ever since becoming unlikely friends in their later teenage years, their friendship something that naturally remained true as they grew. Nicky knew Alex better than anyone, the brooding brunette the only person whom she truly trusted as they freefell through life. Because of all this, Nicky knew that Alex was suffering despite her friend's best efforts to keep it hidden and she knew something needed to be done in an effort to stop Alex from spiralling.

Alex needed a push in the right direction and she was there today to give it her.

They order their food, Nicky making small talk as she prepares her plan of attack, not truly knowing how best to approach the situation. Nicky shuffles her food around on the plate, this clear action of ill comfort not going unnoticed by the brunette who studies her friend closely. It made Alex curious, Nicky usually never one to shy away from being blunt and to the point, no matter how much trouble it would get her into.

Nicky takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting green curious ones. "So, I was thinking," Nicky begins.

"Uh oh," Alex laughs, shooting her best friend a wide, smug smirk, it lessening as she sees the slight unease on the woman's face.

Nicky fidgets nervously with a napkin by her hand, her eyes darting away from Alex's face before she takes a deep breath, the brunette all too aware that her friend was about to discuss something she didn't like. Nicky reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small card and places it upon the top of the table, the brunette's expression unreadable as she glances down.

"Nicky…." Alex begins as she makes out the distinct letters that spells 'therapist' on the cards face.

"I know what you're going to say," Nicky cuts in, having expected this response. "You don't think talking to some stranger is going to be helpful. You think it's a waste of your time and money."

Alex nods in agreement, she felt every single one of those things and had informed Nicky of this month's prior when her friend had attempted to bring the conversation to light. Nicky was right, Alex never believed in the use of a therapist, feeling as if doing so made her appear weak and not in control, something she always insured she appeared the exact opposite.

Alex shakes her head firmly, already attempting to enact her defences.

"Please Vause, at least humour me," Nicky says as she stretches her hand across and offers Alex the business card. "I heard she is really good," Nicky continues as Alex reluctantly takes the card from her clutches and studies its face, her eyes focusing upon the name printed upon its front before her eyes fall back upon her friend.

"You heard?" Alex questions with the raise of her eyebrow, a slight smirk playing upon her lips as she queries why on earth her friend would know anything about the therapist.

"Okay, maybe not heard directly, but all her google reviews seemed pretty positive," Nicky offers with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders as she reaches for another fry on her plate, stuffing it into her mouth as she avoids eye contact with the brunette.

Alex laughs loudly and shakes her head. "So, you selected a potential therapist for me based upon some random people's reviews on google?"

"Well, yeah," Nicky says through a mouthful of food. "Last thing you want in some creepy old dude who spends the whole session staring at your pillowy tits," she adds in an effort to ease the situation into a more comfortable tone, fearing Alex may become extremely averse to her suggestion. Nicky knew Alex well enough to know the idea of a therapist was not her thing, hoping that she could ease the brunette into it lightly.

Alex laughs again much to Nicky's relief, shaking her head slightly as Nicky smiles warmly back towards her, having rarely heard the brunette laugh over the last few months. "How considerate of you, Nicky" Alex says playfully as she shoves the card inside her jacket pocket, attempting to put the prospect of therapy at bay.

Alex had no intention of doing more than discarding the car in her waste basket upon her return home, the prospect of attending therapy laughable in her mind.

"Please, just at least think about it Alex," Nicky says, suddenly serious, something which was rare. "I just think it could really help."

"I'm fine, Nick," Alex says half-heartedly, knowing that the words were anything but truth, Nicky as usual, able to see straight through her lie.

If she allowed herself to be truthful with herself, Alex knew she was anything but okay, drinking herself into oblivion each night alone in her apartment as a way of coping and distancing herself from the darkened thoughts that always seemed to occupy her mind, a constant reminder of what had happened.

"You're not fine, Alex," Nicky states firmly, the loss of the brunette normally quirky and playful nature over the last few months evidently notable to those who knew her. Alex was different and it certainly wasn't for the better, it as if she was missing a piece of her that subsequently ensured she would be devoid of happiness.

"Please, just go to one session, that's all I am asking. If you hate it, I'll drop it and never bring it up again, I promise," Nicky implores in an effort to get the brunette in front of her back on track to a path that was far less destructive than the current.

Alex sighs and chews her lip thoughtfully before rising from the booth and pulling a twenty from her pocket and dropping it onto the table. "I'll think about, okay?" she states casually as she bends slightly and collects her helmet from the padded seat below, hoping to avoid further discussion as it could lead to a topic more sensitive.

Nicky gives Alex a questioning look, as if not quite believing her. "She wouldn't have wanted this to for you," she says quietly, watching as Alex's eyes flicker down, hiding the guilt and wave of emotion that was hidden beneath, like she always did when the topic was brought to the surface.

Even all these months later, the pain was still fresh. The guilt and shame still as palpable as the day it took place. Alex lived with the blame, the onus that it had been her fault, the suffering she put herself through each day acting as the punishment she felt she should endure. It was her fault. Her pain to live with. And Nicky didn't seem to quite understand that.

"I'll see you later," Alex says quickly, attempting to keep her tone as casual as possible. She knew Nicky hadn't done it on purpose, however, it didn't stop the pain from being any more real. Alex Vause wasn't an emotional person, never had been, yet there was always one thing that could bring it out of her and that one thing just happened to be the cause of all her pain.

Nicky attempts to disguise her frown before nodding her head, now only hoping that the brunette would be willing to make the decision and explore the opportunity of seeking some help in sorting out her thoughts in an effort to move forward from what had happened. It was clear to her, that her best friend was still hurting and needed someone to help herself ease that pain.

Exiting from the diner, Alex strides towards her bike, zipping her leather riding jacket up as she goes, and quickly swings a leg over the bike and settles upon the seat. Flipping her hair backwards, Alex shoves the helmet upon her head before kicking the bike to life, the familiar hum of the engine soothing to her as she pulls away from the kerb and onwards to her next destination, in seek of her favourite liquid poison to help melt the demons away that her short conversation with her friend had led to arising.

….

Sliding her key into the lock, Alex shoves her apartment door open with her shoulder and steps inside, ignoring the loud bang that ricochets throughout the low lit apartment as the metal door crashes heavily into the wall. Walking over the threshold, Alex kicks the door shut with her boot and quickly deposits herself upon the old couch in the centre of her small living room.

Leaning forward, Alex places the newly purchased bottle of whiskey upon the small wooden coffee table situated at her feet and sinks into the leather of the couch, huffing audibly as she tilts her head towards the ceiling above, shutting her eyes tightly as she attempts to stop the tears that were threatening to fall as a result of the unwanted reminder of the loss she had caused.

Like always, Alex forces herself to not give into the brewing emotion from within, the immense guilt that riddled her causing her to block herself from moving forward, accepting the fate she had been dealt as a direct result of her actions.

To Alex, she deserved this. To suffer through her days and nights with the constant thoughts of _that_ night's event plaguing her troubled mind. This was her punishment and Alex had long accepted that.

Sighing as she blinks back the tears in her eyes, Alex drops her head forward and runs a shaky hand through her black tresses, her eyes darting forward and fixating upon the unopened bottle in front of her, swiftly focusing upon her chance at a short escape from the darkened mess that had become her entangled and complicated life.

Leaning forward, she catches the neck of the bottle between her fingertips and twists the cap from the top, promptly taking a much welcomed sip, a familiar burning sensation quickly arising as the liquid travels down her throat. Alex nurses the bottle between her hands as she once again sinks back into the couch, her mind playing over the previous conversation, or rather intervention, with Nicky at the diner.

Alex had been friends with Nicky for many years, the wild haired woman having come to earn the title of Alex's closest companion, the brunette's eccentric best friend. Alex rarely allowed people in, her mother and Nicky having been the only ones who the brunette had allowed the penetrate through her firmly constructed walls, walls in which she hid behind in an effort to protect herself from the pain she knew the world could offer, a pain that was now all too familiar burden.

Although it had been some months, Alex had yet to progress forward and continued to remain focused upon the deep riddled guilt which remain firmly rooted in her life. Alex wasn't forgiving by nature and that had resulted in her remaining heavily tilted in allowing herself to accept anything but pain as a result of her own actions.

Taking another sip from the bottle, Alex reaches into the pocket of her leather jacket, her fingers closing upon the small card located within before pulling it out and raising it in the air, level with her questioning green orbs.

She holds the business card between her fingers, examining it with great distaste as she brews over Nicky's earlier intervention, unsure of what the best course of action was to ensure that such unwanted conversation never arises again, wanting to shut out any future interference with her current coping mechanism as she attempts to swallow the guilt which existed within.

She studies the plain, black printed name which is scrolled across the top uppermost of the card, scoffing slightly as she allows herself to picture a face to the name, the image of an aging, grey haired, immensely unattractive woman immediately coming to mind as she studies the foreign woman's accreditations.

She sighs deeply at at the thought of punching the number into her phone to schedule an appointment, knowing that without Nicky's pleading, she wouldn't even consider this as an option, the thought of telling her problems to someone something nothing short of ridiculous. Alex was a strong minded person, always had been, and for her this felt weak, that she was finally allowing herself to admit her wrongs. She expected judgement, for her to be told that what happened was her fault, that what she felt was her punishment which she felt she should accept. Her pain was hers to receive, to live with each day and be reminded.

Alex strongly believe she needed no help with her grief, having felt she had learnt to adapt and manage her anguish through means she deemed appropriate given the circumstances. Yet despite all this, she could not avoid this deep nagging feeling that perhaps, just maybe, this was something she needed to do. Almost as though she was being pulled to make the call to set up an appointment.

It's perhaps the first time Alex as ever been impulsive, to do something that seemed uncalculated and so unlike her. Through the help of Nicky and the internal voice from within, Alex listens as the phone attempts to connect, stopping herself from hanging up after each ring, pushing herself outside her comfort zone for perhaps the first time in her life.

She sighs after she has ended the call, having scheduled a meeting through the woman's receptionist. Alex sinks back into the leather of the couch and takes another long swig from her bottle, cradling it in her hands as she returns her focus back to the uninteresting ceiling above, mentally starting the process of preparing herself for something she never would have dreamed she would be doing.

For tomorrow she would meet this woman. This…

Piper Chapman.

….

 **A/N Worth continuing? Please let me know what you think.**

 **Mrosse38**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Wow, thank you for such an amazing response to the first chapter. I appreciate all the reviews/favs and follows. I've been crazy busy this past month but now things are slowing down so I plan to try to update this much more frequently.**

 **…**

"So, how did your date go last night?" Polly asks as she takes another sip of her latte, her eyes focused upon her best friend who sits opposite her, both having come to gather at their regular coffee shop for their weekly ritual of morning breakfast before Piper started work.

Piper rolls her eyes, a frown forming upon her lips at the memory of last night's disastrous date. "Horrible. Remind me to never let you set me up again. It was almost as bad as the time you continuously tried to set me up with sweater vest."

"His name is Larry, Piper. Besides, he is a good friend of Pete's and I thought he was nice."

"Yeah, Barry was _real_ nice," Piper mumbles as she takes a bite of her breakfast bagel, ignoring Polly's glowering eyes, remembering the hell she had received from her friend after her blatant refusal take anything past a handful of dates.

In truth, someone like Larry was everything the blonde knew she should want. The man the perfect image of what her own mother had imagined for her future, the same image her mother would ramble endlessly about each time Piper would force herself to visit. Much like the few men her own mother had set her up with in the past, Larry was comfortable- the safe option that Piper had been instilled, from an early age, to want.

Despite Piper being brought up otherwise, the blonde had grown to despise the idea of spending her life with someone like that, to be transfixed into a life devoid of adventure. Piper craved passion, constantly searching for a spark she had still yet to find, an ignition into something more powerful. Piper constantly found herself in search of that chemical reaction, seeking out the fireworks she could only hope existed for her, having yet to find anything remotely close to what she had hoped.

"Come on, Pipes. He wasn't that bad," Polly chimes in, breaking Piper from her own thoughts. "Besides, your mom would have liked him," she adds with a grin.

Piper scoffs loudly at the comment, shaking her head as she eyes her best friend and begins to thoughtlessly pick at the bagel in her hand. "My mom would have simply liked the _idea_ of him," the blonde states firmly, knowing her own mother would never truly accept whoever she decided to date, having witnessed the wall of passive aggression the older woman hid behind on the handful of times Piper had regrettably, under her parents incessant nagging, brought the person she was seeing to meet her parents.

After the last introductory visit events, in which her mother so brazenly informed Piper that her boyfriend at the time was not good enough whilst the man was well within earshot, she had stopped informing her parents whenever she would begin to date someone new for the fear of her mother attempting to sabotage it.

Whilst, even now that Piper was older and away from the confines of the family home, she still felt stuck, trapped in between the image of who her parents expected her to be and who she truly wanted to be. The blonde often being subject to snide comments from her mother regarding her lifestyle choices, forcing herself to keep her own opinions secret in an effort to continue to please and get the approval of her family, in particular her father.

Polly simply shrugs her shoulders as she takes another sip of her drink, having heard this argument from her best friend countless times before. Polly knew all too well how Piper's mother could be, having been friends with the blonde since childhood, witnessing on many occasions the joyous ranting's and obscured world views that were of Carol Chapman, the older woman clearly having a somewhat fractured and out-dated interpretation of how things should be.

"Maybe, you should turn gay again and go back to 'college phase Piper' and start dating girls," Polly unhelpfully suggests, referring to the times in college in which Piper often found herself dating a girl, something her mother was most definitely _not_ aware of.

Piper rolls her eyes and frowns. "It wasn't a phase, Polly. You don't just turn gay. You fall somewhere on a spectrum," the blonde states firmly, slightly annoyed at her friends continued ignorance, having had the argument of 'labels' many times before with her best friend who still was yet to properly grasp the concept. "Kinda like a Kinsey scale," she adds as an afterthought.

Whilst Piper had dated a string of girls during her college years she had since graduating, rather unknowingly and perhaps subconsciously as a result of her mother, found herself dating guys in the few times she did allow herself to be talked into a date. For the moment though, Piper was heavily career focused, determined to prove her parents wrong after she put her foot down all those years ago and refused to allow them to dictate that she would study law as opposed to her long term dream of therapy.

"Alright," Polly says as she holds her hands up in mock surrender, knowing that Piper would be prepared to go on a tangent at her suggestion. "Anyway, Pipes. I better get going, Pete's on Finn duty and god only knows what they are getting up to," Polly says with a laugh as she dusts her hand of any remaining crumbs and begins to stand from the table.

Piper smiles at the mention of her 9-month old godson, the blonde often proclaiming that he was the only man she needed in her life. Piper loved Finn and jumped at any chance to take care of him, the little boy such a sweet child that Piper had no qualms whenever her best friend would ask her to babysit. Whilst Finn had been unexpected at first, the blonde having bared witness to her best friend's freak out upon realisation she was expectantly pregnant, the little boy had actually brought them closer as friends, despite in bringing on Piper's mother's growingly persistent comments that she should attempt to follow suit as she neared thirty.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow at dinner," Piper says as she too stands, giving her best friend a warm hug before the two women walk together from the shop, offering each other a quick goodbye as they go their separate ways.

….

Piper walks the short distance from the café to her workplace, the enveloping warmth of the office building as she enters a much welcome change from the cool outside air that greets her every morning. Piper shrugs off her jacket as she steps over the threshold, the familiar bland white walls of the building greeting her, instantly dampening her mood and causing the blonde to momentarily frown.

"Good morning Piper," a thickly accented voice calls from her right, Piper's eyes lifting to connect with those of her receptionist, the girl's deep red lips curling into a warm and welcoming smile.

"Morning Lorna," Piper greets back, walking towards the desk on the opposite side of the room and leaning against the counter, returning a wide smile as Lorna passes her a collection of envelopes with her name printed as the receiver. "How was the dinner with Christopher last night?" she asks as her eyes briefly dart downwards, shuffling absentmindedly through the thick stack.

"Oh, it was perfect," Lorna replies excitedly, fixing her curled hair slightly as she smiles broadly towards Piper. "My Christopher is _such_ a romantic," she continues, looking jubilant as she discusses her fiancé and future husband, Piper having spent hours in between clients, listening to the brunette happily discuss possible wedding plans and her honeymoon to Bora (Bora) Bora.

Piper smiles and nods. Despite having worked at the clinic for almost two years she was yet to meet Christopher, having only heard all about the man through her receptionist who never ceased to gloat about how fantastic he was, the few times they had arranged to commit to dinner plans foiled by an unexpected illness on Lorna's side.

The sound of the office door behind her opening catches her attention, causing the blonde to glance backwards slightly just as her superior, and the senior therapist at the clinic, enters into the small foyer in which they stand, his face adorning the same familiar scowl that greeted them each morning.

"Good morning, Mr Healy," Lorna chirps as he approaches, briefcase in hand, her voice ever pleasant and welcoming despite the steely and cold response she knew she would receive from the aging man.

Mr Healy grunts, pushing his way past Piper to collect his own mail, the blonde raising a knowing eyebrow towards Lorna as she steps backwards to let the man through. Piper attempts to keep her facial expression neutral as she watches Lorna bite at her lip, obviously attempting to desperately suppress a giggle as they silently communicate the unspoken. With one final huff, Mr Healy turns on his heel and walks towards his own office, the uncomfortable silence upon his arrival still evident as he closes the door louder than necessary.

"Such a pleasant man that one," Lorna mumbles as she turns her focus back towards the blonde, a smirk adorning her lips. Piper grins widely in response, her eyes bright as she chuckles quietly, her hand coming up to muffle her laughter from the grumpy senior therapist behind the door to their right.

"I'm honestly still surprised he's allowed to practice," Lorna whispers as she leans against the counter, her mind wandering back to their practices most recent complaint of the senior therapist proclaiming the ability to 'cure' a client of her homosexuality.

"Didn't you know, lesbians are very dangerous, Lorna," Piper says with profound sarcasm, rolling her eyes slightly at the statement. "It's the testosterone," she adds, deepening her voice as she attempts to mimic that of her older colleague, causing a fresh wave of suppressed laughter between the two as they remember Healy's justification as to why he would suggest such a ridiculous concept, the proposition that there was anything wrong with it ludicrous and so clearly a reflection of the older man's outdated and bigoted views.

Whilst Piper loved her job, finding it incredibly fulfilling and enjoying the close friendship that had blossomed between Lorna and herself, she struggled with the highly opinionated views of her more senior colleague, finding herself often having to hold her tongue at his constant narrow-minded quips, choosing to focus upon the people her position allowed her to help, forcing everything else to the background.

"God, I can't believe he _actually_ said that," Lorna says, shaking her head.

"I know," Piper agrees. "I swear sometimes he sounds exactly like my own mother," she murmurs remembering the countless times her mother had made just as ridiculous statements about something she clearly knew nothing about.

For this reason, Piper had been internally grateful for the moment she had been accepted into Smith and was given the chance to attempt to free herself from the restrictions of her suffocating and intolerant mother. Despite her best efforts though, her mother still attempted to take control despite being hours away, constantly suggesting she should return to school despite Piper's constant insistence of how much she truly loved her job.

"Coffee, Piper?" Lorna asks a she makes her way from behind the reception desk and towards the wooden table in the foyer that housed the small coffee machine, interrupting Piper from her own thoughts.

"Mmm, no thanks," Piper responds as she collects her belongings and turns towards her own office. "I've just got to go over a few things Lorna. I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Okay, just remember your first appointment is at nine," the brunette calls over her shoulder as she busies herself with the coffee maker, Piper nodding and murmuring a polite 'thank you' as she approaches her office door.

Entering her office, Piper shuts the door gently and makes her way to her desk on the far side of the room, rounding it and sinking into it's comfortable leather chair, impatiently tapping her long fingers against the wood of the desk as she awaits her computer to come to life.

As the screen flickers on Piper begins to scan through the small history notes of her first client, the lack of detail within causing the blonde to become slightly frustrated. Like with most things in her life, Piper liked to be prepared, to know the best course of action to take to achieve the desired outcome. Piper rarely allowed herself to be unprepared when handling patients, needing stability and a sense of understanding in order for to feel safe moving forward, constantly ensuing she put this practice into how she conducted herself as a therapist.

Before new clients even walked in their session, Piper liked to have a detailed outline of how best to approach and manage their situation through the use of client history notes, which she used to better understand the person behind the name. However, rather unusually with this particular new client, she had nothing but a name and date of birth. The person Piper had yet to meet was a mystery, a complete enigma the blonde will now have the responsibility of learning to understand and help with whatever demons she may be facing. This made Piper somewhat nervous, the lack of preparation before the session making her anxious.

Piper glances towards the bottom of her computer screen, eyes focusing upon the small clock indicating it was now time for her first client of the day, that it was now time to face the uncertainty of what this person may bring. Whilst, Piper was confident in her abilities as a practicing therapist, she still found herself filled with doubt when she was unprepared for the session.

Taking a deep breath, Piper pushes herself from her chair, stopping briefly to nervously flatten out her black pencil skirt before walking the short distance to her office door.

Opening the door, Piper's eyes focus upon the only person in the waiting room, a dark-haired woman whose head remains lowered, elbows pressed against her knees as her eyes remain focused upon the linoleum floor below, her long, dark locks hiding her face as she bounces her legs up and down, apparently nervous despite her rigid body desperately attempting to hide it.

Piper takes note of this, it suggesting to the blonde that this was perhaps the woman's first time, knowing from previous experience, most patients tended to be apprehensive about seeking out the use of a trained therapist, many feeling as if it was the 'weak' option as they attempted to get a handle upon their problems.

Piper pauses for moment, eyes transfixed on the dark-haired woman, feeling herself for unequivocally, for whatever reason drawn, to this particular individual, like an imaginary pull pushing her forward. Taking a deep breath, Piper then murmurs the name, that at the current time she does not know, would flip her world upside down.

"Alex Vause."

 **…** **..**

 **A/N Next chapter will be Vauseman centric as it will be focused on their first session together- just wanted to establish a bit of character background info with this chapter-so sorry if it felt a little slow.**

 **I have a pretty good idea now where I am headed with this fic but as always feel free to leave/PM me suggestions/requests and I will do my best to fit them in around the story.**

 **Mrosse38**


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